


Five Times 15 Lace Street was Invaded and One Time it Wasn’t

by Annariel



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River and Clara attempt (and occasionally succeed) in taking tea together, even though their meetings are out of order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1557, 15 Lace Street, London

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> With thanks to fredbassett for beta-reading.

The street was as narrow and pokey as it had been in 1664 but the houses were, if anything, smaller and even more crowded together. Their timber-framed second storeys leaned out over the dirt track and their windows almost touched on the upper floors.

The house next door appeared to be some kind of workshop. A sign depicting a sword and a helmet hung over the door, which stood open. Clara couldn't see far into the interior, but she could hear the sound of metal being hammered and the rumble of men's voices in conversation.

Number 15, on the other hand, bore no sign showing any trade but there was a heavy iron knocker shaped, Clara thought, although she had to squint to be sure, in the form of a Cyberman with a ring in its mouth. Clearly the right place then. She lifted the knocker and rapped smartly twice.

The door opened almost instantly. River was wearing a green gown and corset. Her kirtle was heavy with embroidery, of tardises, if Clara wasn't much mistaken. Clara's own heavy sober brown dress felt understated.

"A private house, how quaint," Clara said and grinned at River.

"I thought so too," River replied. "It also means we can have some proper tea because otherwise I've no idea what we would drink."

She opened the door to allow Clara into a narrow panelled passageway.

"Weak beer seems to be the beverage of the century," Clara said as she followed River down the passage and then into a room on the right. 

The room's plastered walls were punctuated by heavy wooden beams. The window was small, but fortunately the oppressive panelling had been left behind in the hall and the overall impression was light. Rushes covered the wooden floor and a fire was burning merrily in the grate with a kettle suspended over it. Two straight-backed chairs and a small table stood by the window. Delicate china cups and a teapot with a floral pattern were laid out on the table, next to a tin in the shape of an elephant.

River shook the tin invitingly as Clara arranged her skirts and sat in one of the chairs. The faint sound of leaves shuffling against metal was just audible.

"I'm growing quite fond of weak beer, in its way, but some tea would be a welcome change," Clara said.

"How long have the pair of you been here?" River asked. She opened the tin and measured three teaspoons of leaves into the teapot, before hooking the kettle out of the fire.

"About four weeks. Apparently the pigeons have been infiltrated by a sentient race of avians. The negotiations are taking a long time and involve a tiresome amount of sitting around making cooing noises."

River smiled fondly as she poured hot water into the teapot. "I imagine he's having the time of his life, cooing away and flapping his arms."

"The china's a little out of period isn't it?" Clara remarked, changing the subject. There was a lot of cooing and arm-flapping, but she wasn't sure the Doctor was enjoying it exactly.

River shrugged. "No tea in this century so no teapots. However, I thought the whole occasion would lack a certain _je ne sais quoi_ if we brewed tea in a pan and drunk it out of tankards.

Clara smiled and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of tea brewing together with something else smokier and harsher than the tea. "We're next to a smithy, I see. I always wondered where the names of the shops came from. I suppose the smithy explains it."

"It's an armourer's in fact, very well respected. I did a little homework before taking a lease on this place."

Clara smiled. "If it's a private house that must mean it's less likely to be invaded."

River smiled back smugly. "My thoughts exactly. We should have plenty of time to misbehave."

She reached for the teapot and began to pour into the two matching cups. 

The sound of an explosion echoed through from the armourer's. River froze, the teapot suspended over the cups.

"An armourer's you say?" Clara leaned sideways to peer through the casement window and into the street outside. 

There was a second explosion and the distinctive sounds of wood splintering and glass smashing.

River's smile was a little strained. "Do tell me what we're dealing with this time."

"Giant robots, by the look of things, giant armoured Tudor robots."

"What fun!" River set down the teapot.

"More fun than pigeons at any rate."

Clara rose to her feet and straightened her bodice. River opened a small box on the mantelpiece and removed two flintlocks. Clara inclined her head and gestured towards the door.


	2. 1664, The Walking Breastplate Coffee House, Lace Street, London

The street was narrow and pokey, nothing like the one she was used to, although the address was correct and Clara knew London well enough to be sure it was the same location. It was two years shy of the Great Fire of London, however, and she suspected the place would be very different after that.

The coffee house was sandwiched between a butcher's shop and a tailor's. It had several windows crammed along its frontage, allowing passers-by to see the many denizens inside through the small panes. A sign of a breastplate with brightly-coloured legs underneath it hung over the entrance.

Clara pushed the door open and looked around. The sound of men talking was deafening. Several of the tables were clearly hosting lively discussions. People leaned forwards, waving their hands or, in one case, leaflets at each other. There were plenty of quieter patrons, though, men leaning together over tables their heads close in conversation.

Clara twitched her nose where her fake moustache was starting to itch. It added, she thought, verisimilitude to her disguise but it might make drinking coffee difficult.

River was wearing a bright blue doublet with a fine lace collar and matching breeches. The buckles on her shoes sparkled in the dim lamplight of the coffee house. Clara paused to admire the curve of her ankle before crossing over to her table and sitting down. She pulled out her notebook, aware that River was also admiring Clara's outfit.

"So where are we?" Clara asked as she riffled through the pages.

"The Walking Breastplate coffee shop."

"Very funny, I know that, though it's a particularly weird name. You know what I mean, though." Clara waved the notebook at River.

"Have we done the sentient alligators yet?" River asked, looking through her own notebook.

"No, clearly something to look forward to. Are we expecting anyone at the moment?"

River shook her head. "There isn't an alien in about 5 light years. I did a comprehensive sweep."

"We should order our coffee then."

"Absolutely." River snapped her diary shut and waved for the proprietress.

At that moment a man rose from his seat. He had been sitting on his own at the back of the coffee shop, pouring over a heavy leather-bound book. As he stood it became clear that he was wearing long flowing robes embroidered with mystical symbols.

Clara frowned. "Some of that embroidery is ancient Gallifreyan."

River gave her a sharp look before nodding. Clara noticed she had surreptitiously pulled a scanner out of a pocket. 

"He's definitely human," River said.

Their eyes met across the table. "Found some ancient technology lying around after the Time War?" Clara asked.

River sighed. "Undoubtedly."

"You snivelling fools," the man declaimed. "For years you have scorned me. For years you have underestimated me, but now Ezekiel Ramsbottom comes into his own."

"Persecution complex, probably exacerbated by maintaining a psychic link with an alien control system," Clara hazarded.

"Some of the sentient weaponry from the Time War had that effect even on Time Lord users."

Ezekiel Ramsbottom marched into the centre of the room and raised his arms. Electric bolts began flying from his fingertips. People screamed and ducked beneath tables as he turned in a slow circle.

"I am first among magicians. You will cease to mock me!"

Clara stood, picked up her chair thoughtfully, then brought it down hard over the back of Ezekiel's head once he had his back to her. He crumpled to the ground.

"I thought the Doctor didn't approve of violence," River remarked.

"He's not here and, besides, I'm being deprived of coffee."

River grinned and waved to the proprietress once more.


	3. 1798, The Magician's Breastplate Oyster Rooms, Lace Street, London

Lace Street was a wide street built from sandstone. It was lined with shops, each with a brightly coloured wooden frontage and bowed windows advertising the wares within. Clara had passed a milliners, a bakery and a confectioners before coming to a halt outside the oyster rooms, painted a delicate shade of mint green with a small sign depicting an oyster shell. She wrinkled her nose slightly at the strong smell of fish. Still, a mysterious invitation was a mysterious invitation even if Jane said that Oyster Rooms were not entirely respectable.

Carefully Clara pushed open the door and paused to survey the interior which was full of people talking at small tables. One table instantly caught her eye. River Song sat alone at it, wearing a striking violet dress, with a notebook the blue shade of the Tardis placed prominently in front of her. Clara paused momentarily, wondering how best to approach her. This had to be before her last meeting with River, if only because the woman was very much alive. Clara decided to pretend ignorance of her identity, spoilers were spoilers after all.

Clara walked over to the table. "Hello, are you Miss Song?" she asked. "I got your invitation."

"Ah, I see we haven't met before." River's smile was beatific and she gestured to the chair across from her.

Clara smiled back, enchanted and intrigued. The last River had been somewhat sad and prickly, but this one was all smiles and dimples. Clara thought it suited her. "Should we have met before?"

River fished in her reticule. "There is a first time for everything, however you are going to need this in order to keep track."

She pulled out a thick blue notebook, identical to the one on the table, and handed it over to Clara.

"Thank you, I think. What do I do with it?"

"Make a note of our meeting. And you should have some tea, it is excellent."

"I'm not so sure about that, the Doctor thinks someone has been adding chemicals to the tea leaves in order to allow them to mind control the citizens of London."

River paused, her own cup of tea halfway to her lips, and then she placed it gently back down on the table.

"Mind controlled tea drinkers?" she asked cautiously.

Clara shrugged. "Good way to invade England at any rate."

River looked around them, the patrons at the other tables were strangely still and silent.

"Clara, this particular oyster room is famous for its tea."

"Is it? Oh!"

They both stood up. "When I say run," Clara began.

"I do know the drill."

Clara hid a smile. Of course, River knew the drill.


	4. 1852, The Magician and the Soldier Tea Room, Lace Street, London

The Magician and the Soldier Tea Room had taken advantage of advances in glass manufacture to replace the old bowed windows with large sashes that considerably brightened the interior. Gas lights also helped illuminate the room. The clientele was mixed. Lace Street was a little down on its fortunes Clara thought, but so far everything was quiet and peaceful.

"At least we've got as far as the tea," she said and took an appreciative sip of her Earl Grey.

"Indeed, we should probably count that as progress." River drank her tea delicately and then spoiled the effect by grinning at Clara over the top of the cup. 

Clara picked one of the cakes from the elaborate stand, took a bite, and smiled back.

"Is this chair free? I do hope so?"

The both looked up.

"Missy! What are you doing here?" Clara demanded.

Missy sat down unceremoniously. She smiled the wide tight smile that Clara associated with danger.

"Well isn't this lovely? Just the three of us having tea together. So kind of you to invite me."

"We didn't invite you," River pointed out.

Missy tutted. "Don't be rude. And don't pull out that gun you are reaching for, Professor Song. That's rude too."

River carefully put both her hands visibly on the table top.

"So, what are you doing here, Missy?" Clara asked.

"Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Keeping busy. I might be invading."

"This tea shop? You're invading a tea shop?" Clara asked incredulously, studiously ignoring all the other times she'd been in this particular tea shop while it was invaded.

"Well, possibly, or I could be on holiday, or there might be sentient alligators in the sewers that need dealing with."

"Why would you be interested in dealing with sentient alligators?" River asked.

Missy scowled. "This is my patch."

"Well, you can deal with the sentient alligators yourself," Clara retorted crossly and picked up her tea once more.

Missy tutted again. "I said don't be _rude_. Only to be expected though, I suppose. That's why I brought these."

There was a sharp click and she had placed elaborate bracelets around both Clara and River's wrists. River raised an eyebrow and brought her bracelet up to her face in order to examine it.

"What's this?" Clara asked.

"An incentive. They'll detonate in five hours unless I take them off."

"Or I defuse them. The basic principle is quite simple," River interrupted.

Missy sighed in an exaggerated fashion. "Do I look stupid? There are obviously booby traps and surprises."

"Even so," River's smile was positively predatory, "I think you're going to have to make us a better offer before we agree to help with the alligators."


	5. 1940, The Staff and Sword cafe, Lace Street, London

Clara had got into the habit of wandering down Lace Street, should she be in London, and peering through the windows of the succession of tea shops, coffee houses, and restaurants that endlessly occupied the site. At the moment the frontage was painted a bright cheery red, and a sign placed prominently in the window reminded passers-by that food bought in restaurants did not count towards your ration.

Clara peered inside and was surprised to see River sitting at one of the tables in a smart WAF uniform, her hair tumbling loose over her shoulders. She was reading the printed menu card intently. Clara immediately pushed open the door and entered.

"I saw you through the window. You should have sent me an invite." Clara smiled and sat down opposite River.

River lowered the little menu card and gazed curiously at Clara. "Have we met?"

"Oh!" Clara said. "Oh! Well you had better make a note in your book."

River smiled and pulled out the blue book. "And who shall I say it is?"

"I'm Clara. I travel with the Doctor. We often have tea together."

"How very civilised of us," River remarked.

"Not really, we keep getting interrupted by invasions. No one's likely to invade today are they?" Clara glanced up at the propaganda posters on the walls and added, "apart from the Germans, obviously."

"That depends. Have you ever heard of the Treveri?"

"One of the German tribes at the time of the Roman Empire. Big on cavalry. Year 8 did a dramatic presentation on the history of Gaul."

"Well some of them have got hold of some time travel technology and are running this tea shop."

Clara glanced over at the waitress who glowered dourly back at her.

"So the Germans _are_ about to invade? Only, in this case, it's romanised time-travelling Germans rather than Nazis."

"Exactly."


	6. 2015, The Wizard and the Warrior Wetherspoons, Lace Street, London

If Clara was honest with herself, the pubco version of the Lace Street eatery was not her favourite. The beer was good and the food was better than adequate, but it was hard to overlook the fact that all individuality had been stripped from the place. She sat on her own in the deserted room with a metal teapot and two white cups and saucers in front of her. It was exactly 4pm when River walked in wearing a grey knee-length dress and boots.

River sat down opposite Clara.

"I got your text," she said. 

Clara smiled. "I thought it was my turn to invite you."

River looked around the deserted room. "It's a bit empty."

"UNIT have set up a half mile perimeter and are monitoring for aliens. They've promised us an uninterrupted 20 minutes."

River smiled and started pouring the tea. "That's a little excessive, don't you think?"

"I thought it best to take no chances."

"No cakes though?" River pouted ever so slightly.

"Well, I was hoping that after tea you might like to come back to my place. I can bake a souffle."

"I've heard about your souffles."

Clara smiled. "Well, if you have any better ideas..."


End file.
